Gentle Rain
by TheScarletOctopus
Summary: Sometimes, when the stars are right, two wounded souls can find comfort in one another. One-shot.


**A/N: I felt horrible about what I did to poor Cat in "Slow Drip," so here's something a bit less nightmarish. This story is written to accompany Diana Krall's cover of "Gentle Rain," which can be heard here:**

**http:/ www. youtube. com/ watch?v= RRqtVlzwuew**

**Disclaimer: As ever, don't own.**

"For the last time, Shapiro, stop calling me! I don't have any interest in a date with a _freak_!"

And then – an all-too-familiar sound by now – the click at the other end of the line as Heather Morgan hung up in disgust.

Robbie let the receiver drop from his hand and slumped backwards onto his bed, his head landing on the pillow – right next to Rex.

"So, you gonna record this little incident in your failure journal?"

"I _told_ you, I don't _have_ a 'failure journal'."

"Well, you should. How else are you gonna keep track for when you submit yourself to the _Guinness Book of World Records_? Just think of it: 'Most times shot down by girls in the history of the world.'"

Rex began to laugh, that snide, contemptuous laugh that he saved for those moments when Robbie was at his most despairing. Normally Robbie's reaction would be to clap his hands over his ears and hum to himself desperately until the laughter stopped; but this time, something snapped. He thrust himself up and looked down on Rex; and a burning hatred filled him for this puny, vile block of wood.

"Enough!" he roared, and dashed Rex against the wall. There was an audible snap as the puppet's left arm was wrenched loose and fell to the floor. His anger not yet sated, Robbie stomped on the mutilated body, again and again, until it was little more than kindling.

The end of the adrenaline rush left him sweaty, gasping for breath, and unable to believe what he had just done. He couldn't deny that a part of him was overjoyed to finally be free of the little bastard's destructive influence, but another part of his mind whispered to him – in Rex's voice – that he had just killed the only friend he had left in the world.

_I can't __**be **__here anymore_, he screamed inwardly, and fled the house, ignoring his parents' puzzled cries, leaping into his pathetic rustbucket of a car, and speeding off into the rain.

He had no idea how long he drove, and no clue where he was going, either. What had been a drizzle thickened into a merciless downpour, and the windshield wipers, erratic at the best of times, could barely cope. At last, as he left the city and entered a gray, depressing zone of warehouses, used-car dealerships, and construction supply stores, he was forced to slow down to a crawl.

A small figure stood by the side of the road a few hundred yards ahead, its thumb extended, ignored by passing traffic. He could just barely make out the shape, but as he drew closer it was obvious that the would-be hitchhiker was shivering. It was a girl, with a pack slung on her back that was almost as large as she was, making her barely able to keep her balance. Robbie had an ironclad rule never to pick up hitchhikers – you never knew what sort of lunatics you might run into on a deserted stretch of road – but he was sorely tempted to break it just this once. The poor thing looked so _desperate_, with her bright red hair matted and wet, hiding her face…

And the stuffed giraffe whose head was protruding from the pack…

"Oh, no," Robbie breathed.

He stomped on the brakes, felt them grab in the wet, stomped again, harder. His tires threw up a spray of mud.

The little redhead ran toward the car, beaming. "Oh, Mister, thank you _so much_ for stopping! I'm not going far, I promise, I just need to get to my uncle's in San Bernardino, and…oh my God. Robbie. What are you _doing_ out here?"

"What am _I _doing here? What the heck are _you_ doing here, Cat?" He realized that her shivers were turning to convulsions, and quickly threw open the passenger door. "For heaven's sake, get in before you get pneumonia!"

She scrambled in, and Robbie wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. "What were you _thinking_, hitchhiking? Do you have any idea how _dangerous_ that is?"

"I know, I know. You don't need to lecture me. I just…need to get away."

"I know the feeling," he muttered. "Did something happen to your family?"

"My brother-"

Robbie couldn't help himself; his mind began to run through the various wacky possibilities of how she would finish the sentence_. Painted his face green? Kicked the mailman in the shin? Stuffed a squirrel down his pants?_

"-tried to burn down the house."

His jaw dropped. "Are you _serious_?"

"Robbie, my parents can't control him. _Nobody_ can control him anymore. There was so much screaming, and throwing things; he punched my dad, and my mom had to call 911, and…" She began to cry. "It's too much, you know? It's…it's just too much. I ran. I ran _away_, Robbie. Everything I own is in this stupid backpack."

"And you're trying to get to your uncle's house?"

"I didn't know where else to go."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I wasn't thinking straight, I guess." She looked at him, studied his face carefully. "Would you really have come?"

"In a heartbeat," he whispered.

"…Thank you. That means so much." Cat leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

"How about I take you back to my house? You can dry off there, and my mom will let you borrow some of her clothes – you're about the same size."

"Sounds good."

Robbie turned the key in the ignition. The engine made an angry, sputtering protest, and then died. He tried again, a third time – nothing. He moaned and slumped forward with his head on the steering wheel. "Jesus, this piece of junk…"

"Don't worry about it. There's a service station about a mile back. We can ask them for a tow."

"How do you always manage to see the best in every situation?" he asked.

"I have to. Otherwise I would go totally crazy. It's not weird, is it?"

"No. No, it's not weird. It's wonderful."

The steady thud of raindrops on the windshield slowed to a soft murmur. A bit of light began to peek through the veil of clouds above.

"See, Robbie? Even the weather's on our side."

Despite himself, Robbie smiled. "Maybe you're right. Shall we take a little walk, Miss Valentine?"

Cat giggled. "By all means, Mr. Shapiro."

And as they stood by the side of the road, and the soft, cool kiss of the raindrops fell upon their faces, Robbie took Cat's hand.

_We both are lost and alone in the world  
Walk with me in the gentle rain  
Don't be afraid, I've a hand for your hand  
And I will be your love for a while_

_I feel your tears, as they fall on my cheek_  
_They are warm like the gentle rain_  
_Come little one, you´ve got me in the world_  
_And our love will be sweet, very sweet_

_Like the gentle rain…_


End file.
